


Please Refrain from Talking to Death

by myglassesaredirty



Series: The End of the Innocence [2]
Category: MASH (TV)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Gen, Korean War, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Seizures, everyone thinks radar's hallucinating, expansion on Radar Talks to Death, i really tried to limit the angst, mash - Freeform, so there's a lot of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-21
Updated: 2018-04-21
Packaged: 2019-04-26 00:35:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14390424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myglassesaredirty/pseuds/myglassesaredirty
Summary: Hawkeye's in post-op when he hears the commotion. And then…And then his heart jumps into his throat, and he has never felt fear like he has now.





	Please Refrain from Talking to Death

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AlexTirZeng](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexTirZeng/gifts).



> Expansion on "Radar Talks to Death." Honestly one of my favorite Radar fics. It's so good! Go read it!!

It’s no secret that Hawkeye hates surgery. He hates it because it reminds him that there’s a war on, that people are dying and being shelled all around, but he can’t do anything about it except patch up whichever kid comes his way. Sometimes, he wishes that the damage is intense enough that they get to go home, and every time he does, he hates himself just a little bit more.

 

Hawkeye hates surgery. There isn’t a question about it.

 

It  _ is _ a secret, however, that Hawkeye hates post-op. He would rather be in OR for days on end than look one of his patients in the eyes and lie through his teeth, tell them that they’re going to be okay, when he knows that’s a lie. Regardless, he tucks his hands into the pockets of his white coat and plasters a smile on his face before stepping through the doors leading to post-op.

 

Radar glances over his shoulder when he hears the doors swing open. When he sees that it’s just Hawkeye, he shrugs and reaches to offer one of the patients a glass of orange juice. “It’s the last one, here,” he says.

 

The patient smiles at him and takes it.

 

Hawkeye walks up to Radar’s side and checks the clipboard. “I’m taking a survey. Please, dear sir, tell me: how fantastic is my clone?”

 

The patient – Jackson Willcox – laughs. “I think he doesn’t look like you at all, Doctor.”

 

Hawkeye hums. “He gets it from his mother, no doubt.” He hangs the clipboard back on the stand. “Get some rest. Doctor’s orders.” He continues to make his rounds, stopping by each patient to check their wellbeing or to order more plasma, or even just to bring a smile to their faces. It’s in short supply over here.

 

He hears Radar’s footsteps hurrying towards a patient behind him. “Hey! Leave him alone!”

 

Hawkeye looks up from his clipboard for a moment, his brow furrowed in confusion. He hasn’t heard the sounds of a fight, so it’s not like any of the other patients have decided to attack him. The doors to post-op are in his direct line of vision, so he’s certain that Frank isn’t the problem for once in his life. Hawkeye just decides to shrug it off as his mind playing tricks on him.

 

“Hey, you have to go. This man’s real sick and he needs –”

 

Hawkeye hangs the clipboard back in its original position a little too forcefully. Radar knows post-op etiquette. He should know not to raise his voice.

 

“Hey! Look at me when I’m talking!”

 

“That does it,” Hawkeye mutters under his breath. He turns on his heel, ready to chew Radar out for misconduct, but as soon as he sees Radar yelling, his blood runs cold.

 

Radar’s yelling at thin air.

 

“Nurse, get a sedative. Now, on the double.” He doesn’t know which nurse he’s talking to. He just waits for the syringe to magically appear in his hand.

 

“Come on, it’s kinda rude of you to ignore someone.”

 

Hawkeye tilts his head and taps his foot. “Nurse…?” He looks around the room. Everyone is frozen in place. Radar has finally snapped. It’s scaring Hawkeye, and he can only assume that everyone else is as scared as he is.

 

Radar blinks, and his shoulders sag. “You’re– You… he’s gonna die, isn’t he?”

 

Bile burns in the back of Hawkeye’s throat, and Margaret shoves a glass into his hand. He barely glances down, just enough to make sure he’s not going to down the sedative, and tilts his head back to chug the orange juice. It burns, and he turns his head to cough, and Margaret takes the glass from him and gently rubs circles on his back until he’s calmed down.

 

Radar’s breaths become more labored. “Well, you can’t! Our Nurse Ginger said he was going to be fine! He’s got a family back home and he needs to see them again and –”

 

“Margaret, get me that damn sedative,” Hawkeye hisses.

 

“I can’t find it, Hawkeye.”

 

Before he can start yelling, Radar’s eyes go wide and his chest stops moving. His eyes droop, and he faints.

 

Hawkeye’s heart jumps into his throat, and he doesn’t remember the patients, he doesn’t remember the nurses surrounding him, he just knows there’s  _ people _ , and they’re all blocking him from Radar. He tries to push his way through them, and just the thought…

 

God, Hawkeye just wants to throw up. He finally manages to shoulder his way to the front, and the sight causes his muscles to stiffen and his heart to stop beating.

 

Radar’s having a seizure.

 

Instinct takes over, and Hawkeye peels off his coat, placing it under Radar’s head. His body jerks violently, and Hawkeye feels like crying. “Someone start timing. Nurse, get me – get me a thermometer.”

 

Ginger is the first to react. “Yes, Doctor,” she says, pushing her way out of the little crowd that has formed to go find a thermometer.

 

Hawkeye doesn’t realize that his hands are shaking until he reaches to feel Radar’s forehead. They tremble, and he pulls his hand away for just a second, to curl it into a fist. He wants it to stop. He wants it all to stop.

 

His heart beats in his throat, the sound of a drum, and it hurts, hurts, hurts.

 

He place his hand to Radar’s forehead, and Radar’s skin is ice cold to the touch. His body jerks, and he wheezes.

 

“How long has it  _ been _ ?” he grits.

 

“Forty seconds, doctor.”

 

Forty – forty  _ seconds _ ? He could laugh. He really, he should laugh. It’s hysterical. Only forty seconds have passed, and it feels like a lifetime. Only forty seconds have passed, and he can feel his heart beat three times for every second that goes by. Only forty seconds have passed, and something has lodged itself in his throat, and it makes it hard for him to breathe, hard for him to see past a blur, hard for him to help Radar.

 

At the minute mark, Radar’s body sags, and the convulsing stops. Hawkeye gently turns him onto his side, and he tries not to think of the reasons why he hasn’t woken up yet, tries not to think of how to bring this up in conversation. He doesn’t know what caused this, and that’s the scary thing. It’s all terrifying, and it’s all because there’s a damn war on.

 

Hawkeye takes the stethoscope from around his neck and listens to Radar’s heartbeat. Everytime he hears a shuddering breath, everytime he hears his heart thumping, he relaxes a little bit more. The rock in his throat is almost gone now.

 

After a couple of minutes, Radar comes to. He looks around, and he sees the fear in everyone’s eyes. “What happened?” he asks. His voice is coarse. It’s scratchy. It’s not Radar at all.

 

Hawkeye can’t move. He can’t speak. The rock is back in his throat, and it takes all of his willpower to keep his tears at bay.

 

Margaret speaks for him. She leans forward and gently rubs Radar’s shoulder. “You scared us, Radar. That’s all.”

 

Radar looks to Hawkeye, as if to confirm this. Hawkeye just nods and whispers, “Scared me more than all those bombs.”

 

The next day, Radar doesn’t ask. Hawkeye doesn’t tell. Time passes, and they both forget about it.

 

(Or, rather, Radar forgets the entire “scaring the chief surgeon who has seen death and destruction every day” part. Hawkeye remembers all of it)

 

(He’s still scared for the kid).

**Author's Note:**

> Also this was my first full-length M*A*S*H fic byeeee


End file.
